To this caution the Chourineur paid no attention, but seemed wholly absorbed in so discharging his new mission as should effectually destroy all recollection of his late clumsiness. It was really beautiful to behold the scrupulous delicacy and lightness of touch with which, spreading out his two first fingers, he seized the fragile crystal; avoiding all use of the unlucky thumb whose undue pressure, he rightly conceived, had brought about his previous accident, he kept so widely stretched from his forefinger that a butterfly might have passed between, with outspread wings, without losing one atom of its golden plumage. The black doctor trembled lest all this caution should lead to a second misadventure, but, happily, the phial reached its destination in safety. As the Chourineur approached the bed, he again smashed beneath his tread some of the fallen relics of the former potion. "The deuce take you, man! Do you want to _maim_ yourself for life?" "_Lame_ myself?" asked the eager nurse. "Why, yes; you keep walking upon glass as though you were trying for it." "Oh, bless you! never mind that; the soles of my feet are hard as iron; must be something sharper than glass could hurt them." "A teaspoon--" said the doctor. The Chourineur recommenced his _évolutions sylphidiques_, and returned with the article required. After having swallowed a few spoonfuls of the mixture, Rodolph began to stir in his bed, and faintly moved his hands. "Good! good! he is recovering from his stupor," said the doctor, speaking to himself. "That bleeding has relieved him; he is now out of danger." "Saved? Bravo! Vive la Charte!" exclaimed the Chourineur, in the full burst of his joy. "Hold your tongue! and pray be quiet!" said the negro, in a tone of command. "To be sure I will, M. le Médécin." "His pulse is becoming regular--very well, indeed--excellent--" "And that poor friend of M. Rodolph's,--body and bones of me!--when he comes to know that--But, then, luckily--" "Silence! I say." "Certainly, M. le Docteur." "And sit down." "But, M. le--" "Sit down, I tell you! You disturb me, twisting and fidgeting about in that manner,--you distract my attention. Come, sit down at once, and keep still." "But, doctor, don't you perceive I am as dirty as a pile of floating wood just going to be unloaded?--all slime and wet, you see. I should spoil the furniture." "Then sit down on the ground." "I should soil the carpet." "Do what you like, but, for heaven's sake, be quiet!" said the doctor, in a tone of impatience; then, throwing himself into an armchair, he leaned his head upon his clasped hands, and appeared lost in deep reflection.